We had a family day out to the Higashi Mukojima Train Museum today. Normally, this kind of day out is for the boys only. Quite often (all the time in fact) we split up on Saturdays and the boys do something exciting and us girls do the shopping or mop the floors.
I was very impressed with the museum and I can see why Tadashi has had a hard time on previous visits dragging James away from the attractions. Lots of trains to explore and even more trains to pretend to drive. Railway heaven for trainspotters and little boys and girls. Alexa was transfixed by some old style telephones that you could dial up and chat on. All those trains and locomotives and she wants to chat on the phone! Overall, I think I’d rate this museum way above the famous one in Saitama (or wherever it is). I remember a very long day out for James’ 4th birthday to this one and whilst they had fun, most attractions were of the running up and down through railway carriages. Less people at this local one, too and only four stops away from our apartment.
The day was not without drama, however, and inbetween leaving and being informed which trains and train paraphenalia they want for their birthdays, Alexa had the mother of all tantrums over a strawberry milk that I refused to buy for her. Big, bad, mean mummy! (for the record, she had already just drank one and was demanding a second!) The screaming accompanied us ALL THE WAY HOME. The stares from people on the train were embarrassingly unbearable as I had chosen to ignore her screaming because I’d already realised that trying to console Alexa was not going to have any affect. Quite the opposite in fact – she would yell even louder and at one point removed her shoes and socks and threw them up the train carriage. She was just too over-tired. Plain and simple. I didn’t expect her to continue this tirade for quite the length she did. Normally she would get so tired she’d resign herself to defeat and slump back in the buggy, but not today. She was still wimpering and sobbing, well more snorting like a pig actually, as she climbed into bed when we got home. She had a good old sleep and is now her perky pretty self again.
In other news, my husband is apparently on a diet. He told me a few weeks ago that he didn’t need me to make any dinners for him as he wants to lose weight. His idea of dieting consists of eating anything you like as long as it’s not in the evening. (I should point out that he gets home way after we have all gone to bed and then proceeds to eat his dinner before going to bed himself. so perhaps it’s not the meals I make but the time he chooses to eat them?) He tells me he is also getting off the bus one stop early so he adds an extra five minutes to his walk home. After one week of this gruelling schedule, he gets out the scales and is horrified/disappointed/shocked/aghast to learn that he has lost absolutely no weight! The other week James came home from the park with daddy and tells me they went to Mos Burger for lunch. Now I am no expert at dieting and have yet to start my own fresh start to 2012, but I do know that dieting involves a lot more sacrifies than this. He is only willing to sacrifice my home cooked meals – is he implying that it is my cooking that had made him gain weight? This could be true as I have also gained weight, but I do not eat on the strike of midnight, nor do I frequent burger bars or eat potato chips for breakfast (this I witnessed yesterday as he took the morning off and was on the sofa watching TV with a big bag of crisps). My inquiries into how his diet was going were met with “Urusai!” (shut up!) I would support him in these endeavours, but it doesn’t look as if he is taking it seriously at all. He hasn’t used his “fatbuster” training belt yet either despite having had loads of opportunities to strap it on as he sits in front of his computer.
Anyway, I am loving the fact that I have less cooking to do. Hurrah!
